Sigh No More
by frakkingblerg
Summary: prompt: Road Trip
1. Chapter 1

_"Serve God, love me and mend,_

_This is not the end._

_Lived unbruised, we are friends_

_And I'm sorry, I'm sorry._

_Sigh no more, no more,_

_One foot in sea, one on shore._

_My heart was never pure, _

_You know me, you know me."_

Staring at the early morning gridlock traffic ahead of her, Sharon took a moment to revisit exactly how she'd found herself in this current predicament. The idea of being in the ostentatious, boat like structure known as a Cadillac Fleetwood with one Brenda Leigh Johnson had initially sounded mildly entertaining. If the brunette was being honest, it wasn't so much the road trip that piqued her interest, but merely the possibility of spending approximately four days together without distractions. They'd gotten much closer during the last few months, bonding over Brenda's sudden loss of her mother and eventual divorce. Sharon had been there, done that (had the t-shirt to prove it), and relished in the opportunity to offer the younger woman a safe, stable sounding board. Something she'd so sorely missed during her own marital split. Instead she'd turned to all the wrong adult devices (smoking, drinking, the occasional joint or two) and had ended up nowhere better than her ex for the first few years. Over countless chocolate cakes and bottles of Merlot, Sharon found that they had more in common then she'd ever imagined. Well, beyond the obvious similarities in their careers and tastes in wine. The company and confidence was something the brunette realized she'd been missing for some time. While she'd always been reserved about her personal life, mostly due to the nature of her work, the LAPD had slowly worked its way to the forefront of her to-do list and friends were put on the back-burner. It didn't help that most people were not too understanding of the good old, plan breaking excuse, _'oh, I just got called into work – a police officer shot an unarmed civilian, again.' _

Brenda was a pleasant change to Sharon's preconceived notion of what a friendship was supposed to look like between two middle-aged, female police officers. During more than one particularly grueling investigation, the blonde had popped by in the late evening hours to bring Sharon dinner or her favorite ice cream…simply to 'make your day a little better.' Additionally, the Chief had gone above and beyond the call of duty during investigations. There was a comradery, a willingness to go beyond while working together that they hadn't experienced for most of their professional interactions during those first few years. Two months prior, they'd shared a rather brutal, triple homicide involving an off-duty officer. The suspect, Officer Freeman, wasn't too happy about the turn his interview had taken. While most of the boys had gone off to lunch, claiming 'the wicked witch could handle the interview with her own team', Brenda had stayed behind, offering her support and encouragement through an ear bud. Things escalated suddenly and before the brunette had time to register, she was pinned against the wall. It hadn't been her team who'd entered first, but that rather reckless Deputy Chief. Sharon hadn't seen that wild, blind fury from Brenda before (although she'd heard the stories about interviews gone sour), but needless to say, Freeman was lucky to walk out of that room only in handcuffs. Had the brunette not held Brenda back once back up arrived, she was sure he would have found himself leaving headquarters completely immobilized on a stretcher.

The blonde glazed out the window as they drove past the Mojave Natural Preserve. Sometimes she forgot the entire state of California didn't look like LA with its smog, overabundance of buildings, and heinous crimes. There were beautiful things to see and do, if she ever found the time to explore. Murderers really didn't consider her interest in other activities besides confessions, unfortunately, so down time was precious and rare in the LAPD. She'd been floored when Sharon offered to accompany her on this cross-country road trip, giving up multiple days of saved time off, to deliver Clay his car. Once her mama had died, no one had felt safe (or sane enough) to drive the monstrous Cadillac back from LA. Post funeral, her father had gone to Florida for an impromptu, but necessary, visit with his eldest son and family. Eventually he planned to return to Atlanta, but didn't feel quite ready to live in that big house, alone. Things had gone downhill quickly with Fritz after the settlement and soon, the pair found themselves staring across from each other in divorce mediation. One summary judgment later, she was no longer Mrs. Fritz Howard. Not that she'd been too upset, things had begun to break far before Goldman. Thinking back, she'd probably let him stick around merely to take care of the administrative aspects of her hectic life. It was obvious that the only person who'd truly had her back was currently sitting next to her, navigating the California highway with relative ease. Two weeks ago, when she'd informed the Captain that her new apartment complex only came with one parking space, she'd hadn't even had time to finish the statement before the brunette was offering to split the drive to Atlanta in the name of 'friendship solidarity'.

Sometimes she still couldn't believe how easy their friendship had evolved after the lawsuit. It'd been Sharon who fought tooth and nail to keep 'the Johnson Rule' out of the books. Not Will, Gavin, or even Fritz had offered to help, to carry some of the burden. It had also been that same brunette who'd showed up on her doorstep the second she'd heard about Brenda's spilt. Of course, they still didn't always see eye to eye, especially during office hours. But where Brenda once abhorred the idea of the Captain swooping in and involving herself in a case, she now found it oddly comforting. The brunette grounded her and wasn't afraid to call her out on questionable decisions, which was something the younger woman wasn't used to. Normally, people would give in – they'd let her pout or flirt into getting her way. Or she'd just throw a temper tantrum and Will (or Fritz, Taylor, etc) would let her do whatever she wanted, mostly to shut her up. It was nice to finally have someone who challenged her, forced her to see beyond immediate gratification both personally and professionally. And it was always helpful to have a friend; something she realized she'd always needed but never sought out once moving to LA. She was still married to her job, always would be, but Sharon provided a place of comfort and security without pressure or judgment. Which is why she hadn't even felt the need to ask the brunette to come to Atlanta. Somewhere, somehow, she'd just known Sharon would be there, no questions asked.

Chancing a glance to the driver's side, Brenda soon found herself studying the brunette's features intently, attempting to pinpoint the exact moment she'd realized how beautiful the Captain was. First, there were those ridiculously gorgeous auburn locks that always seemed to lie perfectly, no matter the situation. The blonde could admit that on more than one occasion, drunkenly of course, she'd wanted nothing more than to reach out and tangle her hand into those long strands. Purely in a platonic, annoying sibling kind of way…for the most part. As if perfect hair wasn't enough, the Captain had also been blessed with those incredible emerald eyes. Most of the time almost hidden behind black-rimmed glasses, they were one of the things Brenda had come to love about the woman she'd spent countless evenings with. When she wasn't at work, Sharon preferred the no glasses look. And to the younger woman's surprise, those green eyes gave away a wide range of emotions. In fact, she swore they changed colors, just a little, depending on the Captain's mood. Perhaps that was why Darth Raydor (what Brenda mentally called the other woman's work façade) wore those sharp, dark frames. She was protecting her emotions, not allowing anyone to see exactly how she really felt, how much she cared about her brothers and sisters in blue. Finally, Brenda's gaze rested on Sharon's lips. While they weren't nearly as full as her own, there was something alluring about the older woman's mouth. Still mid appraisal, she noticed the Captain's lips moving before she registered the words coming out.

"Uh – Brenda, you're staring at me…"

"Oh, sorry. I was just thinkin', I musta zoned out," drawled the blonde, snapping her head around and settling back into the seat. As she watched the land pass out the passenger window, her eyelids began to drop. Soon the blonde was fast asleep.

Sharon heard light snoring and fought back a chuckle. Just like her children, Brenda always seemed to be lured into dreamland by the monotony of road trips. They'd driven up north a few months back, pursuing a fleeing suspect. After only 10 miles on the highway, it'd been like someone turned on a switch and the Chief was knocked out cold. If for no other reason, she'd volunteered to accompany Brenda to Atlanta in hopes of saving the lives of countless other drivers who'd be unknowingly subjected to the blonde's questionable driving while drowsy. Settling into her seat, she carefully slipped off her ballet flats and threw them behind her. The blonde would be out for a while, she'd obviously been dreading this trip for the past few days if her mangled cuticles and chewed up bottom lip were any indication. Sharon understood, it had taken some time for the younger woman to open up about her mother's passing. From what she'd gathered, they weren't exactly close – but she'd always attempted to stay in her good graces and live up to Clay and Willie Rae's expectations. Accepting the fact that she'd be navigating solo for the next hour or two, she began fiddling with the radio dials, trying to find a station she didn't absolutely hate. As she drove across the Arizona border, she settled on a country station. While she wasn't a country fan per say (although occasionally a crossover hit would pique her musical interest), she assumed the southern belle sitting next to her would appreciate the choice, if she ever woke up.

A rather annoying cramp had settled in the blonde's neck, pulling her back into reality. Slowly, she became aware of her surroundings – but refused to actually open her eyes. Instead, she allowed the mid afternoon sun to warm her face and took a moment to enjoy the quiet. It wasn't until she registered that rather twangy (and quite annoying) voice of Reba on the radio that she opened her eyes, unable to contain the laugh that had bubbled up. Turning to face her companion, she was met with suspicious eyes and a pursed lip from the Captain.

"Sharon Raydor, you never told me you liked country music," smirked the younger woman as she stretched her hands above her head. Car napping no longer agreed with her age and she could hear a variety of joints cracking in protest.

"I don't, I just assumed you did, being from the south and all," Sharon rolled her eyes and let out an amused huff before turning her attention back to the road. "Isn't liking country music a requirement in Atlanta," the brunette teased.

"My mama and daddy liked it, but I've never really warmed up to it much." Brenda flipped down the visor mirror and rubbed away the sleep crusties that had formed in her eyes.

"Hmmm. Well, what do you like listening to, Brenda Leigh?"

"Grew up on CCR, The Eagles, Kansas, Lynyrd Skynyrd, basically anything my brothers were listenin' to, I guess." Clay Johnson had never been too fond of his only daughter acting like 'one of the boys' for most of her childhood. They'd fought relentlessly over her desire to wear jeans instead of dresses and listen to rock music with the neighborhood boys. It had been her Mama who'd broken up more than her fair share of fights, always assuring Brenda that she was perfect no matter what she wore or chose to listen to. The blonde smiled at the thought.

"Classic rock, who would have thought?"

"What about you, Cap'n? I'd put my money on classical. But who knows, perhaps you'll surprise me…"

"You know I'm always full of surprises, Brenda," deadpanned the older woman. "I do enjoy a good symphony now and then, but I have a pretty eclectic taste in music. I usually can find something I like in almost every genre," continued the brunette as she reached down for the radio dial and began mindlessly changing stations, looking for something that they'd both enjoy until they stopped for dinner. Brenda's hand shot out and covered the Captain's, attempting to take over the stereo selection. Sharon felt her breath hitch, a warm sensation erupting in her lower belly as the blonde's hand rested on her own. Blowing out the air trapped in her lungs, she tried to compose herself. Hopefully Brenda hadn't noticed her momentary freak out. Not to mention, why was she getting worked up over a simple touch…from the Chief of all people? She must be hungry, a drop in blood sugar always led to strange internal reactions.

"It seems almost silly to ask, but are you hungry? We could grab a late lunch at the next town?"

An hour later, thanks to one delicious diner in Flagstaff, they'd had their fill of chocolate chip pancakes (for Brenda) and a more modest club sandwich on whole wheat. Sufficiently caffeinated, Brenda offered to drive the rest of the distance to their first evening stop, Albuquerque. It'd been a rather quick 4 hours since dinner; the two women mostly talking about superficial work things. Sharon could tell that as the miles passed, the blonde was getting more uncomfortable with the idea of returning to Atlanta, although she'd never admit it out loud. As a result, the Captain attempted to keep the mood light and conversation flowing, distracting the younger woman from the impending sadness that had already begun to settle in the Cadillac. Thankfully, the brunette had somewhat anticipated Brenda to be less than 100% and she'd gone ahead and booked all the hotels and a few surprises along the way. If they were using vacation time, the least they could do was enjoy a massage or two in the process.

Pulling into The Sheraton Albuquerque Uptown Hotel, the blonde rolled her eyes. Leave it to Sharon to book the most extravagant, expensive, modern looking hotel in the city (and most likely, the state). Dragging her almost broken, rolling carry on behind her, the blonde surveyed the surroundings as the older woman checked them in.

"….Yes, spelled R-A-Y-D-O-R," Sharon clarified, obviously annoyed, to the pimply teenager managing the front desk. A few tense minutes later, they'd managed to secure their room cards and parted ways after a quick elevator ride, taking a few minutes to settle in before they headed down to the hotel restaurant and bar.

Sharon dropped her things and immediately launched onto the bed, curling her arms around a pillow. Her suitcase could wait a few more minutes. For now, she desperately needed to just exist in the solitude. Of course she'd enjoyed the past day and even learned a few new (and kind of adorable) things about Brenda Leigh. But in her heart, the brunette was forever the introvert - completely content in the quiet. Just as she'd begun to doze, the Captain heard a rather loud knocking coming from what she'd initially assumed was a closet door. Sighing at no one in particular, she slowly stood and unbolted the door. Standing across from her, dopey smile in place was the blonde.

"Guess what? Our rooms are connected. Maybe I'll try botherin' you later tonight, when you least expect it," smiled the younger woman.

"Wonderful, can't wait…now, was there something you actually needed?"

"Can I borrow some toothpaste, I musta forgotten mine at home." Brenda pushed her way past the brunette and headed for the bathroom. Sharon rolled her eyes; apparently she didn't feel it was necessary to ask before barging in, she'd just assumed it was okay.

"Sharon, I can't find your toothpaste," yelled the blonde as she fumbled around the sink.

"Because I haven't unpacked my suitcase yet." Sharon extracted her toiletries bag from the front pocket of her bag and handed the tube to the younger woman.

"Thanks," Brenda responded as she walked toward her room. "Still wanna meet in the hallway in 20? I'm starvin' and I could use a huge glass of Merlot."

"Sounds good, see you in a few."

Dinner had been rather quiet, both women were exhausted after the long day of driving. And honestly, neither was used to spending so much time with another human being (a live one, in the Chief's case). Against her better judgment, Sharon agreed to an after dinner drink - adding to the two she'd had with dinner. The blonde insisted on repaying her for the company and room, through copious amounts of wine, even though she'd assured the younger woman she'd been happy to tag along.

Settling into the modern bar, Brenda signaled for the bartender and ordered a bottle of Merlot.

"A bottle? Are we in college again, road tripping and downing bottles of wine? I've already had two glasses and we're supposed to be driving for most of the day tomorrow…"

"Hush, Sharon - we'll be fine. And you can just sip it...after all, we both know I'm the only one who can handle my liquor," smirked the blonde as she grabbed her glass and took a long drink.

"That was one time...and I told you it wasn't a good idea to mix vodka and wine," moaned the Captain, remembering how the younger woman had held her hair back during a rather embarrassing moment. They'd decided to rent a movie post Brenda signing her divorce papers since the brunette assumed she'd most likely not want to venture out of the house. After a lovely meal of Chinese take out, they'd started bitching about ex-husbands, work, and a gamite of other ridiculous things. And somehow, the blonde had drunkenly convinced her to a couple shots post The First Wives Club. Long story short, it hadn't ended well and Sharon found herself praying to the porcelain god for the better part of the next 2 hours.

"Well who was I to know you were an amateur?" Brenda looked over, cocking an eyebrow before bursting into a fit of laughter.

It was soon very clear that the blonde had come here with one lone intention, getting absolutely plastered. She couldn't blame Brenda, things were obviously weighing heavily on the younger woman, even though she'd never admit it. As Sharon nursed her first drink, the blonde poured herself a second glass.

"So Brenda, you want to talk about why you're drinking like a fish or do I have to drag it out of you," inquired the brunette, resting a hand on Brenda's arm. The younger woman audibly sucked in a breath at the contact, but didn't pull away.

"I'm just nervous, I guess. Seein' the house without Mama or Daddy in it, it's just gonna be hard," Brenda murmured, idly spinning her wine glass. Taking a deep breath, she continued – if anyone could understand, it was Sharon. "Sometimes I just forget, y'know? That this is my life. I wake up and think 'I should call Mama today' before I realize she's not around. And then Fritz leavin'," the blonde choked back a sob. "I just feel like maybe it's me, I'm the one who's doin' somethin' wrong, pushin' away the people who care the most until they get up and leave me." As the tears began to fall, she felt the brunette's arm around her shoulder, squeezing her into the older woman's body. It was a bit awkward, considering they were sitting on bar stools, but Brenda found herself incredibly relieved to have Sharon there, holding her. It had been a long time since she'd felt this safe, secure and even, dare she think it, loved. There was no expectations in their friendship and for once, Brenda wasn't supposed to be the strong one. During her weakest moments, the brunette merely offered a shoulder to cry on. And she'd never made the blonde feel ashamed or ridiculous about the way she felt, a stark contrast to almost every other person who'd ever claimed to care about Brenda. As the tears subsided, she found herself desperate to remain in the older woman's arms.

"Hey Brenda Leigh, let's get you up to bed," Sharon whispered, slowly helping the other woman to her feet.

"Thanks." Brenda shot the brunette a sad smile and staggered, just a little. Sharon reached around the younger woman's waist, attempting to steady her.

Sharon held onto the blonde, mostly to keep her from tripping over her own feet, until they'd safely made it upstairs. She'd attempted to coax her into drinking some water, but the younger woman had chosen to fall directly into bed, refusing any additional help. Feeling more like an annoyance as the seconds passed, the brunette had fled to her own room. At least one of them would be refreshed come tomorrow morning. Obviously she would be driving the first shift (and probably second, considering the blonde had at least a bottle of wine over the past 3 hours). Face washed and teeth cleaned, the older woman settled into bed.

Sharon was fast asleep when she heard the low knocking on the door. Assuming it was someone who'd mistaken her room for their own, she closed her eyes and buried deeper into the covers. As the sound became louder, she let out a frustrated sigh before reaching blindly over to the bedside table for her glasses. Noting the time, 1:37, she drowsily extracted herself from the cocoon of blankets and pillows and headed for the connecting door. She found a very small looking Brenda sadly staring back at her, tear tracks prominently displayed down her cheeks. It was like a punch to the gut, seeing the blonde so upset. Sharon wasn't sure what to say, so she simply went with the first thing that popped into her head.

"Come on, come to bed," muttered the sleepy brunette, grabbing for Brenda's hand and leading her into the room. Once they'd both settled into their respective sides, each facing the wall, Sharon felt the blonde stir.

"Sharon?" The older woman turned over, slowly meeting the blonde's gaze. She could see Brenda attempting to say something, but obviously hadn't found the words yet.

Brenda's thoughts were jumbled, her brain working overtime to express exactly how she felt in this moment. All the things she wanted to say, how much she'd realized over these past few months had become crystal clear today. Well maybe not crystal, but clear enough in her Merlot induced haze. But now, under the Captain's intense scrutiny, she couldn't seem to find the words. Taking a chance, she rested a shaky hand on Sharon's cheek, tracing the older woman's jaw line with the pad of her thumb. Surprisingly, the brunette didn't pull away, just continued to stare intently. Brenda swore she saw a slight smile, although couldn't be sure in the dark room. And then Brenda reached out and kissed her. A light, almost chaste grazing of lips that she could blame on the alcohol if need be. But honestly, she desperately hoped that wouldn't be the case. Sharon let out a very quiet hum as the blonde pulled away, upset by the sudden lose of contact. And just as soon as the kiss had started, it was over – Brenda rolled back toward the wall. For a moment the brunette didn't move, still completely shocked by their exchange. As usual, her heart betrayed her brain and she felt a sudden ache, a desire to hold onto Brenda as tightly as she possibly could. Sharon slowly scooted into the younger woman's body, draping an arm across that small waist and resting her own head in a mass of blonde curls. Almost immediately, she felt a leg entangle itself into her own. Within minutes, they'd both succumbed to sleep.

TBC

_A/N: I've recently gotten VERY interested in prompt writing (a word, phrase, situation request from readers, other authors, etc). The wonderful and talented Docileboy (check her stuff out if you haven't yet, its pretty epic) gave me my first prompt, __**'road trip.' **__Somehow a simple one-shot turned into a multi-chapter beast (yes, there will be more). Hate to love you, db. And if this sucks, you know who to blame…_


	2. Chapter 2

_'but man is a giddy thing, oh man is a giddy thing…'_

Sharon woke to a light rustling against her, momentarily confused by her surroundings and the presence of another's body in the bed. Slowly drifting out of the haze and into reality, she became painfully aware of the pins and needles her arm was experiencing under the weight of a mass of curly blonde hair. Extracting her arm from cradling Breda's head and the other from around the younger woman's waist, she carefully got up and tiptoed toward the bathroom. If there was a time and place to momentarily freak out about how they'd found themselves in this current situation, it wasn't here with the still sleeping blonde.

Padding into the bathroom, the brunette grabbed her overnight bag - thanking the heavens above she'd decided last-minute to pack running shoes. She changed quickly, throwing on the first sports bra, cotton capris, and tank top she felt buried in the depths of her overstuffed tote. In a few swift motions, she secured the mass of brown hair back into a high ponytail, adding a stretchy headband to keep the whispies at bay. Slipping into socks and shoes, she pocketed her iPod and headed for the door. The brunette stutter stepped as her fingers brushed the handle, momentarily frozen. A sharp pang settled in her chest, pulling her back toward the bed. Chancing a glance, she noted the peaceful look that'd spread across Brenda's face. She was absolutely beautiful, even serene, curled up amid covers and pillows. A far cry from the tense woman Sharon had spent the previous evening with. The sun was beginning to stream in, turning blonde curls a lovely golden hue. As incredible as she appeared, after last night, Sharon imagined the Chief wouldn't be too keen on waking up in such a brightly illuminated space. A Merlot hangover wasn't something she'd wish on her worst enemy. Tiptoeing over to the window, she closed the blinds, darkness settling in the room. She allowed her eyes a moment to adjust before grabbing an incredibly expensive ($6, really?) water bottle out of the mini bar and placing it on the blonde's nightstand. Giving the room a good once over, she nodded at her handiwork. Brenda would hopefully be fine until she returned. And ever so quietly, she slipped out the door.

Sharon chose a treadmill in the far corner of a very large, empty gym, wanting to give herself a little space in the event of a mid-morning rush. Settling into a brisk but manageable pace, she attempted to process the past 24 hours while enjoying the smooth sounds of Adele's smoky contralto voice. The smart, secure, sensible Captain couldn't help but consider exactly how many lines they'd forever blurred in just one short evening.

Whether she cared to admit it or not, Brenda's presence in her life had become almost necessary over these past few months. As much as she'd been the shoulder to cry on, the blonde brought vibrancy, color, even life back to the older woman who'd gotten far to comfortable sitting on the sidelines. Prior to Brenda, she'd been content merely going through the motions and spending most nights alone, never feeling a desire to invest in any type of relationship. She'd had her fair share of friendships and romances throughout the years, both men and women, but ultimately her job, lack of interest, or general hesitant nature got in the way. Resigning herself to living life solo, peppered with visits from her children and grandchildren, Sharon became complacent and rather lonely. The blonde, forever a bull in a china shop, burst into the Captain's life – full speed – and turned it upside down. Brenda wasn't one to sit home and putter; she needed constant stimulation and distraction, especially during the first few weeks after the divorce. Sharon was more than happy to oblige (although those first few times, Brenda had practically dragged her out of the house kicking and screaming) and support her new friend. In turn, she'd found that movies were actually quite lovely on the big screen, mini golf wasn't nearly as ridiculous as it sounded, and she had a real knack for painting pottery while slightly inebriated (the local pottery painting studio that served alcohol really was a must-do activity when visiting West Hollywood).

And now, after all the time it'd taken them to drop the _'Captain Raydor', 'Chief Johnson'_ act and develop a real friendship…they'd gone and thrown it all away on whatever the hell happened earlier that morning. Sharon wasn't an idiot, her rise through the ranks of the LAPD had little to do with her charm or politicking abilities and a lot to do with her understanding of other's motivations. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out there'd always been a spark between the two women. Something Sharon chalked up initially to misunderstandings coupled with a wish to mark one's territory during shared investigations. It wasn't until well after the Goldman suit that she'd begun to suspect their friction was more complex. And more than once, more times then she really cared to admit, she'd entertained the idea of kissing the blonde - in the heat of the moment. If only to rule out the possibility that whatever these feelings were, however strong she'd felt them, it was merely a one-sided attraction bought on by the Chief's constant attention and friendship. That wasn't something she was used to; perhaps she'd crossed wires, mistaking kindness and loyalty as infatuation. Sharon was more than capable of recognizing this was a simple crush, something she could move past. But of course the blonde had gone and thrown a curve ball that Sharon hadn't seen coming.

Brenda felt like she'd been run over an 18-wheeler, twice. Chugging wine like she'd just turned 21 never seemed to end well, especially considering her current location. It took almost all her energy to roll over and retrieve the bottle that'd apparently grown legs and walked to the nightstand. Of course Sharon would pay some ridiculous amount for water out of the mini bar, knowing the blonde's mouth would feel something like the Sahara desert in mid-July. After chugging down at least half, the blonde couldn't help but notice Sharon wasn't anywhere in sight. Good news, her bag was still on the floor, she'd have to come back at some point. Running her fingers through tangled curls, she let out a sigh, cursing herself for another incredibly reckless decision that'd probably cost her their friendship. She should move, go back into her own room, but she wasn't sure if doing so without vomiting was possible. Instead, she settled deeper into the duvet. Closing her eyes, the room no longer spun. Unfortunately, she couldn't say the same about her mind, which was working in overdrive. A little early morning, hangover induced introspection sounded about as exciting as getting a root canal without anesthesia.

As terrible as she felt, she needed a plan. Why couldn't she keep her emotions in check? Honestly - kissing a subordinate (a rule loving one at that), who also happened to be the only friend the blonde had, was just plain stupid. Her mind quickly flashed back to Will Pope and how well that'd ended, she shuttered at the though. Not to mention, she wasn't the type to go around just kissing people, especially women. Maybe it was the grief talking? But Sharon was unlike anyone she'd ever met. Once they'd stopped the bickering and pissing matches, things had become rather easy between the two. It'd taken only weeks for the brunette to make herself indispensible, Brenda could trust her more than anyone she'd ever met. And the possibility that their friendship may no longer exist past this was terrifying. Perhaps she'd crossed a line, but why hadn't Sharon stopped it?

Sharon took a final breath before unlocking the door, unsure of exactly how the next few minutes would unfold. Hopefully Brenda had managed to drag herself back to her own room. They could just chalk up the kiss to a lack of sleep and far too much wine. Or even better, they could completely avoid the elephant in the room and pretend it never happened. Honestly, was there really a need for some sort of discussion? After a quick swipe of her card key, she entered, immediately noticing two rather stubby feet sticking out from under the duvet.

"Sharon?" Brenda hoped it wasn't housekeeping, there was about zero chance she'd be getting out of this bed anytime soon.

"Yeah, it's me," called the brunette as she headed directly for her suitcase, unable to meet Brenda's gaze.

"Did you go to the gym? Aren't we supposed to be on vacation? Workin' out doesn't sound very relaxin' to me…" The younger woman couldn't help but notice Sharon was avoiding eye contact, her heart sank. She needed to say something, anything, to make things better between them. If Sharon hadn't booked a flight to high tail it back to LA already, they'd have to talk. Unfortunately, Brenda couldn't pinpoint exactly what she was feeling - she needed more time. For now, they'd just dance around the previous evening and hopefully make the best out of their long drive.

"Well, I guess I'll go get my stuff together. You wanna meet in the lobby? Maybe in a half hour or so?" Brenda slowly got out of bed, attempting to not move too quickly and possibly throw up in the process.

"Sounds good, Chief. I'll see you then," murmured the older woman, heading into the bathroom.

Chief? Of course Sharon would default to titles and her cold, Captain Raydor demeanor. Outside of work, or their relentless teasing, they hadn't referred to each other using titles in months. And Brenda couldn't help but notice how much it stung, seeing the brunette so aloof and distant.

They were packed and in the car by 9:30. Brenda had picked the absolutely worst evening to overindulge, as this would be their longest driving stint. The next 11 hours had gone as well as could be expected. Sharon drove a majority of the way, allowing the blonde to continue sleeping off her hangover for the better part of the morning. The few hours Brenda managed to drive, Sharon had caught up on emails or read a few more pages of Tina Fey's autobiography. While the entire ride wasn't completely awkward, it had been quiet. Every so often, they'd attempt to make conversation, mostly about the weather, plans for the following holiday, and a host of other superficial topics. Brenda could tell something had shifted, almost as if they'd taken a few steps back in their friendship. And as much as she wanted to push, to figure out what the older woman was thinking, she'd held her tongue. Afraid of what she might say in the heat of the moment.

Arriving in Oklahoma City a little after 10, they checked into the Marriott Waterford with relative ease. Once again they'd gotten neighboring rooms, although this time no connecting door. A fact Brenda couldn't help but think gave the brunette immense relief. Now the younger woman found herself in an oversized LAPD t-shirt and an old pair of checkered sleep shorts, laying in bed and staring aimlessly at the ceiling. She was being selfish, thinking more about Sharon then her impending arrival in Atlanta. After all, this trip was about bringing her father his car so eventually he could begin his new life without Willie Rae. Instead of wallowing in the possible lose of a friend, she should be more concerned with her own grief and her fathers well-being.

But that was the funny thing about losing a parent. While it was horrible, overwhelming, and often felt like you'd been punched in the gut repeatedly – it also forced you to take stock of your life. Suddenly, little tiffs and arguments no longer seemed incredibly productive or necessary. Certain people weren't really worth the time in took to continue the relationship, especially if they weren't building you up in some way. Perhaps that's why it had been so easy to leave Fritz. Even at her lowest moments after the divorce, she'd known he just wasn't right. And what became most clear to the blonde, were the few individuals that she actually needed in her life almost as much as oxygen. Besides her family, Sharon had become essential. And now because of her own indecisiveness and desire to always have the answers before simply asking the questions, she'd probably lost the brunette. She felt the tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. While she wasn't sure what she wanted, or how she'd find the words to express how she felt, things couldn't continue down this road. And once again, she found herself outside of Sharon's door, lightly knocking and praying the brunette would hear.

Sharon rolled her eyes, knowing that knock far too well. Trudging over toward the door, she mentally prepared herself for some sort of temper tantrum, figuring her rather standoffish behavior throughout the day might have been enough to push Brenda over the edge.

The blonde couldn't help but notice Sharon didn't look any better than she. The brunette had opted for the oversized t-shirt (although hers read Boston College across the chest) and dingy sweatpants look, hair pulled back into a messy bun. She looked exhausted and incredibly irritated at the disturbance.

"What do you need, Chief?"

"Brenda – it's Brenda, we got over all that title usin' a long time ago. Can I come in? We need to talk." The blonde was wasting no time.

"It's rather late, and I don't really think there's anything to say…"

"No Sharon, you're not gettin' off that easy. Whatever this is, I don't like it." Against her better judgment, Sharon opened the door and motioned for the blonde to enter. Afraid to stop now that she'd begun, Brenda immediately sat on the bed and continued the speech she'd mentally prepared over the past half hour. Taking a deep breath, she hoped Sharon wouldn't throw her out soon after she'd begun.

"We've been gettin' along so well these past few months, I don't wanna lose that over some silly mistake."

"Is that what it was Brenda, a mistake?" Sharon settled next to the blonde, but made sure to keep a respectable amount of space between them. She met Brenda's gaze with a challenging stare.

The blonde took a moment to consider the previous evening, how she'd felt drawn to the older woman's room once she'd realized how incredibly sad and lonely she'd felt. And now, if she was really being honest, all she wanted was to fall asleep wrapped in Sharon's arms. She wanted that feeling of security, which had been so sorely missing from her life. Even Fritz hadn't ever made her feel completely safe. Their relationship had always felt so fragile, like Brenda's slightest mistake could forever break them. Sharon knew her flaws and didn't use them to manipulate - instead she embraced the blonde for exactly who she was, no change or updates required. And she'd been there for the blonde without judgment or expectation of repayment, even when she was a tantruming mess. Brenda needed the other women, and suddenly things become just a little more obvious. Unfortunately, if the brunette's sour attitude was any indication, she didn't feel the same. But then again, she hadn't pulled away the night before…

"Is that what you want it to be? A mistake?" Brenda looked away, she wasn't ready to lay her new realizations on the line, not yet. The idea of Sharon rejecting her was too frightening and she desperately needed to know what the other woman was thinking.

Now Sharon wasn't sure how to continue.

"Look Brenda, maybe I should leave, fly home early. You've only got a day or so of driving left and…" Sharon absent mindedly turned her body toward the blonde, laying a hand on top of Brenda's.

Brenda felt the tears begin to fall, even though she'd told herself she wouldn't cry. All she'd heard was _'I should leave,'_ and all those insecurities, feelings of self-doubt began to surface. Just like everyone else, Sharon would go, scared off by her reckless behavior. And then something rather unexpected happened. She felt the Captain's arms wrapping her up, whispering nonsense words the blonde couldn't register through her sobs.

"I need you, Sharon. Please don't leave me like everyone else," choked out the blonde.

"Shhhh, I'm not going anywhere," Sharon reassured, pulling the younger woman closer.

They sat like that for a while, Brenda curled into the brunette's body, face hidden behind a curtain of thick auburn hair. She knew this trip would be emotional, most likely bringing up a host of feelings surrounding her mother's passing. But what she hadn't expected was with grief came a deeper understanding of exactly who she needed. Sharon was here and she was alive, making her feel a little less alone amide the pain. Once her tears had subsided she pulled away, just a bit, meeting emerald eyes. She gave the brunette a sad smile, wanting to thank her for her silent support, but she couldn't form the words.

Rules be damned, Sharon could no longer deny the feelings now bubbling to the surface. In one swift motion, she brought their lips together. Pouring all she'd been feeling into the kiss, the uncertainty, desire, even perhaps love. She felt the blonde's hands cup her checks and push her back onto the bed. Once the need to breath became apparent, Sharon pulled away, smiling at the younger woman who'd perched across her waist. Brenda began idly stroking the brunette's toned stomach.

"You never answered my question, Sharon," muttered the blonde, rather absorbed in feeling the flexing of Sharon's abdominals beneath her shirt.

"Which was?"

"Do you want this to be a mistake?" Brenda looked up, meeting the older woman's gaze. Attempting to detect any hint of untruth.

"Why don't we not worry about it right now," responded the brunette before flipping on her side, effectively knocking Brenda from her perch.

The blonde settled across from Sharon, never breaking their eye contact. While she wanted to stay like this forever, it wasn't fair to assume her presence was welcome for the rest of the night. The older woman looked positively exhausted, she should probably head back to her own room. Finally feeling like things were heading in a positive direction was enough to ease the Chief's mind, she'd sleep well even without Sharon's body curled against her own. She let out a loud sigh and rolled off the bed.

"Hey Brenda Leigh, please stay," husked the older woman, reaching out for the blonde's arm. She didn't have to ask twice before Brenda launched back into her arms, tangling their legs together and burying her face into the crook of Sharon's neck. Within minutes, the brunette heard light snoring. Dropping a quick kiss on the top of Brenda's head, she allowed herself a moment to enjoy the rise and fall of the younger woman's chest. Entwined in Brenda's limbs, life felt a little less lonely; Sharon couldn't help but finally feel like maybe she'd found her home.

TBC

_Thanks for the overwhelming amount of support for the first chapter, comments definitely keep me typing. Hope you guys are enjoying this adventure! xoxo_

_Special shout out to a certain B who's been a real doll and listened to me whine and complain about this story and everything else throughout the week. _


	3. Chapter 3

_"Love; it will not betray you_

_Dismay or enslave you, it will set you free_

_Be more like the man you were made to be"_

Waking up with an arm draped possessively over Brenda's waist was incredibly thrilling and simultaneously nerve-wracking. But the older woman couldn't deny even after a mere two nights together, it was starting to feel familiar – almost like home. This realization alone was enough to elicit a smile. As much as they'd been through these past few years, from outright hatred and bickering to mediocre tolerance and finally real friends, it appeared they'd once again found themselves at another fork in the relationship. On one hand, they could continue to explore this deepening connection past the next few days, considering it was now painfully obvious that it was more than a one-sided infatuation. Or they could remain 'just friends' and chalk the last few nights up to Brenda's grief and Sharon attempting to quell her fears. Placing a light kiss on the younger woman's shoulder, she felt a stir and Brenda scooted back, burying herself deeper into the Captain's warm body. Even asleep, she sought the comfort of Sharon's secure arms. The brunette let out a content sigh, nuzzling back into blonde curls. She'd wake Brenda soon, they did have 10am massage's booked and she desperately needed some recent, Cadillac induced knots worked out. But for now, she was content watching the rise and fall of Brenda's chest, existing in the bubble they'd created the previous evening.

As relatively painless as the transition had been from friends to something more, once they'd accepted this mutual attraction, the older woman was still a bit hesitant and confused about where they'd go from here. Sharon wasn't one to completely jump in without feeling relatively certain of a positive outcome. She was much too old for playing games, beating around the bush when it came to her emotions. So there was no way she'd put her heart on the line just to have it tramped yet again. Brenda, however, was known for indecisiveness in her personal life, if all the stories surrounding Fritz and their courtship were true. Between the two of them, it was hard to imagine things ever working out – both tentative about sharing their feelings and committing totally to anything beyond their careers.

Perhaps this sudden desire, on the blonde's part, was merely the result of her overwhelming grief. This trip seemed to be a continual reminder of her mother's passing. Maybe Sharon was simply a 'right place, right time' warm body, mostly to ease Brenda's loneliness. Taking a slow, cleansing breath, she banished the growing concern to her subconscious. They'd talk eventually about what this all meant…they'd have to. The Captain could admit that it'd been a long time since she'd felt so much in such a short time. And with any relationship, there'd always be fear, uncertainty, doubt. But just existing in this room, watching Brenda sleep so peacefully curled into her body, it was an incredible feeling that she couldn't ignore. She'd throw caution to the wind; toss the rulebook in the trash for a chance to rise every morning next to one Brenda Leigh Johnson.

The blonde couldn't help but notice Sharon's arms wrapped around her as she woke – she hadn't left. Leisurely flipping over, foreheads almost touching, she shot the Captain a sleepy smile. Suddenly things felt a little awkward, she could no longer meet the Captain's gaze, afraid of exactly how she'd react. They were skirting dangerously close to 'morning after' territory (although was it really the morning after if they'd only kissed and done some rather innocent petting?). Yesterday Sharon had snuck out to the gym, obviously wanting to avoid the situation. But now she was here, possibly feeling these same incredible and simultaneously confusing things and Brenda wasn't sure where to begin. It seemed silly, but the blonde didn't want to say something wrong, afraid Sharon would put up even more walls and they'd be back to square one.

The brunette saw the hesitation, she'd been around Brenda long enough to know that look of concern settling in her brow. In an effort to calm the younger woman's fears, she lightly brushed their lips together, silently communicating her desire to continue what they'd begun the previous evening. As she pulled away, Brenda scrunched her nose, sighing at the loss of contact.

"Good mornin' to you too, Sharon. More kisses," the blonde pouted. Sharon was more than happy to oblige, surprisingly unembarrassed by morning breath. Their kissing went from light, playful pecking to more passionate; soon Brenda felt the older woman's tongue swipe along her bottom lip. They continued for what felt like hours, only stopping occasionally for air. At some point Brenda managed to roll on top, perched on the Captain's hips, drawing nonsense patterns down her sides, lightly scratching at the exposed skin around her waist where her shirt had ridden up. Sharon's hands were splayed across the blonde's ass, occasionally snaking up inside her shirt, lightly caressing her lower back.

Settling back into an upright position, still resting on Sharon's hip, Brenda found herself almost giddy, smiling down at the woman beneath her. Things were progressing rather quickly between the two but somehow it felt right. Taking stock of the last few months, she could admit some less than pure thoughts surrounding the brunette. But her fantasies paled in comparison to actually being with the older woman, experiencing first hand how their lips felt pressed against each other.

"Oh shit, it's already almost 9:15," Sharon exclaimed, realizing they'd been making out for the better part of a half hour…not that she was complaining.

"Do we haveta get up," the blonde whined, pout once again firmly in place. She wasn't ready for this to end, life outside this hotel room seemed far too difficult.

"Well if you're interested, since we are using vacation time, I may have booked us both a massage. All that driving has really done a number on my neck. But if you'd prefer to stay here, I'll go and you can…" Sharon couldn't finish the statement before the younger woman brought their faces together, effectively shutting her up, cupping the brunette's checks and kissing her deeply.

"Sharon Raydor, you are incredibly thoughtful," uttered the blonde, slowly puling away. "How'd I miss that for so long?"

"Hm, you were probably too busy calling me a bitch? Or maybe helping Provenza color in that lovely wicked witch portrait…." the older woman smirked playfully, before bringing their lips together for a final peck. Pulling back, she gave the blonde a light smack on the ass and gestured for her to move. "I need to shower. Our appointments at 10, so we could meet in the hallway in maybe 25 minutes?"

"I should prolly go shower too, although I'd much prefer just layin' here waitin' for you." The blonde bit her bottom lip and raised an eyebrow - the thought of seeing Sharon naked was suddenly incredibly appealing.

"Brenda Leigh, you can always stay if you'd like." What Sharon really wanted to say was _'feel free to shower with me'_, but she didn't want to be too forward. Things were feeling rather easy; it was hard not to jump into the 'save water, shower together' routine. Not to mention, Sharon was very interested in seeing the younger woman sans oversized t-shirt and tattered sleep shorts.

"I'll see you when you get out then." The blonde smiled and grabbed for another pillow to replace the spot left vacant by Sharon, she could always bathe later.

The brunette had just begun rinsing some rather cheap hotel shampoo out of her hair, cursing herself for not bringing something less harsh, when she heard the bathroom door creak open. Popping her head out of the shower curtain, she found one very nervous looking Brenda Leigh. Refusing to meet the Captain's gaze, clearly a little uncomfortable, the older woman opted for the direct approach.

"Brenda, did you need something?"

"Well, I ah, I thought maybe I should go take a shower and I was, well…I was hoping, I mean if its okay with you…" Sharon knew exactly what the younger woman was asking and found it oddly endearing, seeing her so shy, obviously anxious about the brunette's response to her forward request.

"Of course, come here," Brenda wasted no time, shucking off shorts and underwear in one swift motion and throwing her t-shirt toward the corner. Jumping into the shower, she settled against Sharon, dropping her head slightly to rest on the older woman's chest – listening to the slow, almost melodic rhythm of her heartbeat, toned arms encircling Sharon's waist.

"Honey, how exactly am I supposed finish showering in this position?" Brenda hummed a response and snuggled a little closer. It had been far too long since she'd been with anyone romantically, almost immediately she realized how much she'd craved the physical contact.

"Can I just get one more minute cuddlin' with you? Then maybe I'll help you wash your back," smirked the blonde as she moved a hand ever so slowly downward, lightly squeezing Sharon's ass. The older woman moaned at the contact, shifting her weight more firmly into Brenda.

"You don't play fair, Chief," Sharon husked, pushing the blonde backwards, effectively pinning her against the wall.

Brenda watched green eyes darken and wasted no time crashing their lips together, finally letting her hands freely roam over Sharon's naked form. Just as things were heating up, the older woman pulled away, reaching for a washcloth and soap.

"I think you promised to wash my back," flirted the brunette. Pulling her hair over a shoulder, she craned her neck and shot the younger woman a trademark smirk, jutting out her hip for dramatic effect.

Brenda stepped back, taking a moment to appreciate the older woman in her current position. While she'd always noticed Sharon's beauty, clothes didn't really seem to do her justice. The woman was obviously meant to be naked, something the blonde was all for in the foreseeable future. Smiling at nothing in particular, she began her slow exploration. Racking her nails down Sharon's calves, she heard a hiss as the older woman shuddered. Using the pads of her fingers, she retraced back toward the brunette's ass, eliciting a rather loud giggle before Sharon pulled away.

"Sharon Raydor, are you ticklish?" Brenda planted a light kiss on the older woman's shoulder-blade as she stood up.

"Wouldn't you like to know…"

They'd been 10 minutes late for their appointment and practically pruned, neither wanting to leave the shower or each other's arms for more than a few moments. After a quick pack up of the car, they were out on the highway headed toward Tupelo. Sharon had suggested they keep the final two driving days relatively light, knowing Brenda might need some time to sit with her feelings. And the last thing anyone needed was an emotional Chief trapped in the car for any extended period of time. They'd drive all afternoon, stop for the night, and begin their final leg early.

As the afternoon sun started to set, Brenda began to recognize the land in front of her. She'd spent countless camping trips trolling the outskirts Jacksonville with her brother. And who could forget the Johnson family trip to Memphis? Her Mama had staked out a few gas stations that'd claimed Elvis was a regular, hoping to catch a glimpse. If it hadn't been for Clay practically dragging them back to the car, they'd probably still be there, waiting for the king to appear. Lost in the memories, she felt a single tear slide down her cheek and attempted to inconspicuously swipe it away. She didn't want Sharon to see her so exposed, not yet.

"Do you want to talk about it, Brenda Leigh?" Sharon had noticed the tear, but didn't want to push, remembering what it felt like to lose someone and how much she'd hated being prompted to discuss her feelings when all she'd wanted was time alone. Eventually the younger woman would want to talk, she couldn't hold it in forever. But for now Sharon would silently support, be there as a friend, someone to lean on. Snaking her hand into Brenda's, she laced their fingers and gave a light squeeze.

"I'm here when you need me."

Around 9 they crossed into Tupelo, neither saying much. The car ride had been almost silent, Brenda lost in thought, Sharon respecting the younger woman's need for some introspection and quiet time to process. So she'd sat, never letting go of the other's hand, occasionally exchanging glances. Arriving at the hotel, the brunette hesitated momentarily before getting out, finding herself in rather murky territory. For the past two nights they'd slept together, curled up in their own little world. And if Sharon was being honest, tonight, of all nights, she wanted nothing more than to hold the obviously dejected blonde in her arms – let her know that everything would be alright. But there was no easy way to say _'why are we paying for two rooms when you can stay with me?' _to the obviously upset Chief.

"Sharon?" The blonde poked her head into the door, confused by the older woman's sudden desire to remain in the parked car.

"Oh - I was just thinking, sorry." The brunette shot Brenda a half smile and reached around to retrieve her purse and shoes from the backseat floor.

"Good evening, I have a reservation for Sharon Raydor" The brunette set her purse on the front desk while the attendant began typing.

"Mrs. Raydor, we've got you down for two rooms, both king beds. Was that correct?"

"Actually," Brenda interrupted, grabbing for the brunette's hand, "we just need one room."

Sharon attempted to stifle the giggle bubbling up, the boy behind the desk looked incredibly confused. Once safely inside _their_ room, Sharon dropped her things and pulled Brenda into her body, holding her as tightly as possible.

"I'm so tired baby," Brenda murmured, placing a light kiss on the brunette's neck, sinking deeper into her arms.

"Come on, let's get you in bed." Sharon managed to dance her way around furniture, holding up the suddenly frail looking, exhausted blonde. Falling into bed, Brenda curled into her arms and finally allowed the tears to fall.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 Rating: **M** **

**Trigger Warning for grief & dying in effect**

_"There is a design, an alignment to cry_

_Of my heart to see, _

_The beauty of love as it was made to be"_

Staring aimlessly out the window, Brenda began her countdown. In exactly 4 hours and 14 minutes (according to that usually handy, but now just incredibly foreboding GPS) she'd be pulling into her parent's driveway. Scratch that, her _father's_ driveway. As an adult, she'd never exactly looked forward to going home, mostly because she was guaranteed a lecture (or ten) about her career choice, lack of children, and general lackadaisical attitude toward anything non-murder related. There was always apprehension, even a little fear, about another visit that would inevitably end with her parent's disappointment over some standard she hadn't quite lived up to. Of course she loved her parents very deeply, they'd gone above and beyond more times then she could count. When she'd first found out about Will's marriage, her mother had paid the rather exorbitant price for the next available flight to DC, assuring her completely heartbroken daughter they'd figure it out. Then there'd been the dissolution of her first marriage, they'd silently supported her as her name was dragged through the Atlanta mud. Brenda knew this trip would be different however, quieter, and as much as she'd mentally prepared, she couldn't seem to shake the dread.

If the blonde hadn't let out the occasional sigh, Sharon was sure she'd seriously begin to question if Brenda was still breathing in the passenger seat. They'd said almost nothing to each other since waking up, packing, and beginning the four-hour trek to Atlanta. The brunette was getting nervous, starting to feel like she'd begun to tread in murky waters without the faintest idea of what Brenda was thinking. In her periphery, she noticed the younger woman wipe away a tear, then another, attempting to hide her slight outpouring of emotion. However much Sharon had felt over the past few days paled in comparison to the ache settling in her chest. Falling for the blonde had taken mere moments there first night together. In fact, as acutely self-aware as the Captain was, she could admit she'd been in love with Brenda much before they'd teetered the _'just friends'_ line. Where the brunette was nervous, always cautious, never wanting to make a ripple – Brenda cannon-balled off the high dive, recklessly careening toward whatever she desired. This emotional, scared, shell of the woman sitting in the passenger seat was frightening and incredibly heartbreaking. And for the first time in a long time, Sharon wanted to be somewhere, anywhere other than here with the blonde. Not because she didn't care, in fact she cared more than she could express. But seeing Brenda so fragile, guarded – it was almost breaking the older woman. A sob threatened to bubble over and she concentrated on keeping the emotions at bay. Losing someone close was a horrible experience; the pain never seemed to disappear, always gnawing away in one's subconscious. Watching someone you love become totally absorbed in that pain, allowing it to overtake them, sometimes that was even harder.

Sharon had buried her own mother years before. It'd been one of those defining, life-altering moments that forced her to officially grow up – but it hadn't killed her. There were still days when she missed that fiery red-head, who seemed to understand Sharon better than she knew herself, but she'd realized this was part of the circle of life so to speak. What'd broken her, almost completely, was her ex-husband's premature death. While they'd been separated for the better part of 4 years, he'd still been the father of her children. Being forced to watch her daughters come to terms, rationalize their father's early demise had ripped her heart wide open. Maybe loss wasn't always the worst part? After all, death was part of life – it was easy to comprehend in bigger picture terms. Perhaps it was watching those you loved deeply suffer immense pain, having no reasonable way to comfort them. She couldn't help but feel overwhelmed at the prospect of the next 24 hours, considering the two were still on shaky relationship ground. How much would the blonde want her around? Would things be awkward now that they were heading toward real life and out of the bubble this road trip had momentarily created? Sharon didn't like feeling out of control, leaving things ambiguous and unclear. But now wasn't really the time…

Exactly 3 hours and 47 minutes later (the Captain did have quite the lead foot, much to the younger woman's surprise), they pulled up to that familiar southern country-style home, complete with wrap around porch. While rather modest in size compared to others on the block, Sharon couldn't help but notice its homey, almost rustic feel. Obviously this house had seen it's fair share of love.

"This is it," announced the blonde, still very preoccupied with her thoughts.

"Wow, it's beautiful."

The younger woman flashed a half-smile and exited the car, popping open the truck for their bags. Rolling her eyes, the brunette got out, hoping things would eventually become less awkward. Maybe there was a manual for these types of situations? She'd have to peruse her kindle later.

"Hey, come here." Sharon stepped between the younger woman and the trunk, extending her arms for a hug. While she wasn't sure exactly how to make the obviously uncomfortable Brenda feel better, she figured a little personal contact might be a start.

Brenda allowed herself to relax into the brunette's embrace, nuzzling into the crook of her neck, which she'd recently begun to regard fondly as '_her spot'_. But just as quickly as they'd begun, the younger woman pulled away. There were still a variety of things she needed to accomplish before they boarded their flight to LA tomorrow afternoon – and there was no time like the present.

"Are you okay?" Sharon lightly touched the blonde's arm as she pulled out the last of their bags from the trunk.

"Yeah Sharon, I'm fine."

"You don't seem very fine."

"I'll be okay. Come on, let's throw our things inside and we'll go grab some lunch."

Sharon couldn't help but smirk as the blonde's accent seemed to thicken with every passing moment, practically oozing southern belle as she responded_ 'yes ma'am, just two'_ to the hostess. Sliding into a booth, the brunette grabbed a menu and began perusing her cholesterol shocking options. Chicken fried steak, was that a misprint? After placing their order (fried chicken, mashed potatoes, cornbread, and black-eyed peas for Brenda, a much more modest chicken sandwich and salad for the older woman), Sharon snuck a hand out to cup the blonde's. While the Captain usually wasn't one for PDA, she needed a little reassuring contact from her companion. Even though things had seemed relatively normal since they'd arrived in Atlanta, she couldn't quite shake the fear that'd formed in the pit of her stomach during the morning drive.

"So we've got about 24 hours in Atlanta. What did you want to do?"

"I talked to Daddy and he told me I should try goin' through some stuff in the attic, see if I'm interested in keepin' anything of Mama's. Gettin' the car here was most important, so I didn't really have much of a plan after." Brenda had begun drawing invisible patterns on the table with her free hand, avoiding the brunette's gaze. Obviously not interested in continuing the subject, Sharon directed the conversation toward a more superficial topic – not wanting to push too much, not yet. Settling into tales of Brenda's early years, the older woman began to feel the tension of the morning drive dissipate slightly. She was more than content watching the blonde point out and describe in ridiculous detail where she'd received her first kiss from Billy Truman, star running back of the high school football team. The rest of their late lunch continued at this same pace, Brenda dramatically describing some childhood antidote and Sharon attempting not to wet herself at some of the more over the top stories. It all felt so comfortable, casually sitting, laughing together, occasional light touch.

Arriving back at the house, Sharon set off to find some drinks (hopefully something with alcohol, but she'd settle for sweet tea, worse case - assuming their was some vodka to spike it) allowing the blonde a chance to begin rifling through the attic. Apparently, if Brenda's parent's liquor cabinet was any indication, the younger woman's Merlot habit could be traced back to Atlanta and one Willie Rae Johnson. The brunette hit the jackpot, so to speak, and was perusing a variety of labels and years for the better part of a half hour before settling on an Australian vintage, circa 1999, hopeful that it was a good year for the grapes down under. Uncorking the bottle, she produced two glasses from a rack above and headed back toward the collapsible ladder. Rounding the corner, she could hear the blonde sniffling and almost immediately ditched the stemware and bottle on the closest flat surface, bolting up into the attic at lightening speed. Brenda was frozen, staring at the pictures littering the floor in front of her. While the tears were flowing, the blonde seemed almost entranced by the memories, not even noticing the older woman as she ascended into the space. Sharon hesitated, unsure whether to leave her alone or provide some sort of comfort. Going with gut instinct, she chose the latter, practically hurling her body into Brenda's and enveloping her in a fierce embrace. Apparently this was the correct decision, almost immediately the younger woman released a deafening sob, burying her head into brunette waves. For a few moments they just sat, Sharon whispering soothing words, attempting to calm the broken woman in her arms.

"She's gone, what am I suppose to do now? What is Daddy suppose to do…" The blonde managed to get out in a shaky breath before resuming her place, tucked away in the older woman's shoulder.

While Sharon enjoyed a good pity party every so often and understood that this was an incredibly trying experience for anyone, the blonde needed to get a grip - let it all out and start picking up the pieces. It wasn't healthy to continue to ruminate with the 'What ifs.' She grabbed Brenda's cheeks, effectively forcing her out of hiding to look at the older woman.

"Brenda Leigh, it will be okay. Not today, not tomorrow, but eventually this will get easier, I promise. It just takes time. You still have so many people who care about you, that love you…" Sharon froze, she hadn't exactly meant for the last sentence to come out that way. Of course, she did care about the blonde. In fact, she could admit she loved her. But this really wasn't the time to exchange those types of sentiments - now was about Brenda "Why don't you tell me something about your mom, something you really loved about her?"

"I dunno, I don't think that'll really help…" Brenda laid her head down in the Captain's lap, suddenly exhausted.

"Just try it. Sometimes its good to focus on the positive," Sharon murmured as she began running her fingers through blonde curls, occasionally whipping away a stray tear from the younger woman's cheek.

Brenda thought for a minute, closing her eyes and sifting through the variety of great qualities her late mother possessed. After a few moments, she answered without hesitation, "She always did the right thing."

"Anything else?"

"She loved me, even when I was makin' terrible decisions. Sometimes she'd pester me to no end about gettin' a safer job or movin' home, but I knew it was cuz she loved me and didn't want to see me get hurt." Brenda turned her head, meeting green eyes above.

"Did you ever tell her how you felt?"

"Well – I told her I loved her. I never really thought about tellin' her all that other stuff…"

"Now seems like as good a time as any. Come on, I'll drive." Sharon pushed the younger woman's head from her lap, forcing her into a sitting position. Extending a hand, she helped them both to their feet.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"No, but it can't get much worse. I do know that sometimes it's hard to hold everything in that you should have said, would have said if you had the time. Just trust me, okay?"

Sharon pulled the car up alongside that familiar magnolia tree, a spot Willie Rae and Clay had set aside long ago for their eternal resting place. Excusing herself to a bench a few hundred yards away, she gave the blonde some time, assuring her she'd be within reach if necessary. Brenda let her fingertips graze the cool marble, outlining the words inscribed across the stone.

_Willie Rae Johnson_

_September 10, 1929 – July 30, 2012_

_Generous of heart, constant of faith_

"Hi Mama," she began tentatively, sitting cross-legged in front of the headstone, feeling more awkward then relieved – considering she was talking to a slab of marble. But she trusted Sharon, she hadn't steered her wrong before and anything was worth a try.

"I just wanted to say a few things, considerin' I was never really great at tellin' you how I felt. I know I wasn't the best daughter. Hell, I don't think I was even an okay daughter most of the time. We were just so different in a lot of ways. You loved talkin' on the phone and gossipin' about the neighbors and all I wanted was to hang up aand get back to my murders. But no matter what, I couldn't have asked for a more wonderful, lovin', beautiful person to look up to. And I did, I looked up to you and Daddy – I still do. And I'm sorry I couldn't get the marriage thing right, but I'm tryin'. It's soon, but I think I might have found someone who's gonna make me real happy. Sharon, you remember her? My friend? Well, she's the one who got me to come here, to realize how much I needed to tell you that I loved you," Brenda confessed, chewing at her lip to distract herself from the sob threatening to bubble up. She'd done enough crying and it'd always been Willie Rae who'd told her daughter that sometimes life didn't always give you what you wanted, but there was no use crying about it. After a few silent minutes replaying some of their happier moments, she felt like things might eventually be alright. "Well I'm gonna go, but I promise I'll come visit and make time for you and Daddy."

Brenda got up, giving the stone a final light trace with her fingertips, and headed toward the bench. As much as she'd doubted Sharon's idea initially, the older woman had been right. It was still hard to think about her mother's death, but she felt a bit better knowing she'd gotten a few things off her chest, the important things at least. Sharon rose to meet her, throwing her arms around Brenda and pulling her in as tightly as she could manage. Dropping a kiss on the blonde's head she pulled away, allowing their eyes to meet.

"Are you okay?"

"Actually, I feel a little better. Maybe you were right, I guess I just needed to say a few things..." Brenda began idly stroking the older woman's side, drawing invisible pictures.

"Sharon Raydor? Right for once? How did that taste coming out?" The older woman couldn't help but flash that signature smirk.

"A little like bile – but I'll get over it. Thank you, for comin' with me, for doin' all this."

"Of course I'd come with you, Brenda Leigh. I'll always be there when you need me."

"Always? Promise?" Brenda was feeling a little raw and she desperately needed reassurance that Sharon wouldn't leave her like everyone else.

"Always."

"My crazy won't scare you away?"

"I'm pretty sure your crazy can't be any worse than mine," deadpanned the Captain.

"Ain't that the truth. Come on, let's go get somethin' to eat. I know this really great pizza place down the street. And lease don't tell me your crazy includes weird, all healthy pizza toppings, we might not work out long-term." Brenda grabbed for the brunette's hand, leading her back toward the car.

"Do you have any serious concerns surrounding onions, pineapple, or ham?"

"All acceptable. I think we may be a perfect match after all…"

One large, onion, pineapple, ham, and hot pepper pizza later, the two women were curled up on the couch with a 1997 California Merlot. Pleasantly buzzed and rather full, Brenda decided it was time to have a discussion. After the last day, it was incredibly clear what she wanted, who she needed to remain in her life. They'd be back in California by this time tomorrow and she had to understand what this was, where two of them were heading. Slowly extracting herself from the warmth of Sharon's lap, she turned to face the older woman, taking a hand in her own.

"I wanna talk to you about somethin'," Brenda confessed, unable to meet the brunette's gaze - nervous about the possible rejection. Instead she focused on the topography of Sharon's hands, lightly tracing knuckles and bone.

"Okay."

"What are we doin', you and me?"

"Currently we're drinking wine and watching some horrible cable. I mean, honestly, when did television become such trash…"

"Not what I mean."

Sharon took a deep breath. Obviously this conversation had to happen, she'd just hoped it wouldn't be tonight. The older woman was perfectly fine just allowing things to progress. Putting a label on something so complicated seemed rather unnecessary and almost frightening. Ever so slowly, the bubble they'd created over the past few days was beginning to pop and Sharon was unsure how they'd make this work once adding in their jobs, family, and hectic schedules. Not to mention, the rules surrounding office dating. What if Brenda didn't want the same things? What did she even want? Looking back over the past few days, she wasn't sure of much – but she did know she'd do practically anything to continue waking up with an arm around the blonde. So maybe that was it, she wanted the relationship, the morning breath, late night love making, cooking for two, and weekends at Lake Tahoe (well maybe not the skiing part – did Brenda even ski? It was hard to imagine the clumsy Chief not careening into a tree or taking out a small child). There was only one small hiccup in the plan, she was 99.9% sure Brenda had never been with a woman. Obviously there was an attraction between the two, one that the blonde actively seemed to reciprocate. But an attraction didn't always translate into relationship making material. What if Sharon threw it all out there and the younger woman effectively shut her down? Not only would they lose whatever this was, but it could forever damage or even demolish the friendship they'd achieved after so many years of animosity and fighting. The brunette's head was spinning, her brain attempting to keep up with the onslaught of thoughts surrounding this delicate situation

"Can you stop thinkin' and analyzin' the situation for one second and just tell me how you feel."

"Says the CIA trained investigator…"

"Sharon, I'm serious. If you not gonna talk then I will." In one quick roll, Brenda perched herself on the brunette's lap, closing the distance. "A lot happened over these past couple days – good, bad, somewhere in the middle. And all I know is without you, I'd have lost it. I don't know that there's an easy answer, but I do know that I want to wake up next to you. I don't care about the rulebook or all the other excuses you've got whirlin' around in that pretty little brain of yours." Brenda brought their lips together for a passionate kiss, trying to convey all the feelings she still couldn't quite verbalize. She'd meant what she said, without Sharon there was no possible way she could have gotten through all this. And somehow, during one of the worst times of her life, she'd fallen for someone that challenged her, pushed her to pick herself up by the boot straps and continue living.

"So what are you thinkin'?"

Sharon brought their foreheads together, placing a light kiss on the blonde's nose. "I don't know about throwing away the rulebook just yet, but I guess we could give it a try," she smirked. Almost immidiately, she felt the blonde's hands snaking inside her shirt, palming a breast, tweaking her already pebbling nipple, and moaned at the contact. In one swift motion she devised Brenda of her tank top, pleasantly surprised to find no bra underneath.

"Looks like someone thought they might be getting lucky," husked the brunette, tracing nonsense patterns over the expanse of bare skin.

"I was hopin'"

Bringing their lips together, she flipped the blonde, pinning her down against the couch. Brenda grabbed for the hem of the older woman's shirt, pulling it over her head before latching back onto the brunette's lips. Sharon let her hands wander over the Chief's incredibly toned body, before resting them on her hips – lightly scratching at blonde curls below.

"Inside me, Sharon. I need you inside me," Brenda managed to sputter out between a moan.

While Sharon usually enjoyed being a tease in the bedroom, she'd been waiting far too long for this moment. Shoving a hand down and inside the blonde's sweatpants, she circled Brenda's already soaking entrance with one hand before thrusting two fingers inside, setting a slow, lazy rhythm, thumb lightly stroking the hood of Brenda's clit. She was going for a deliberate build, taking her time to explore the spongy walls of Brenda's center, learning exactly what would make her squirm, drive her crazy. The younger woman keened at the onslaught of sensation, enjoying the fluttering of muscles before beginning to match Sharon's stroke with a cant of her hips, brushing their lips together for a needy kiss. Sharon cupped Brenda's breast with her free hand, pinching her nipple. This was beyond anything the blonde had imagined, Sharon's hands fit so perfectly inside her – and it wasn't long before the brunette found Brenda's elusive spot, crooking her finger slightly the left. The younger woman let out a scream, "Yes baby, right there." Sharon smirked, repeating her previous thrust, rubbing the spot again. A hard pinch to her nipple sent the blonde over the edge, internal muscles clenching around Sharon's fingers. As Brenda came down from her high, the brunette remained inside her, enjoying the squeeze and providing the younger woman with enough pressure clamp down on, producing a few light aftershocks. Slowly, she removed her finger, eliciting a hiss from one blissed out Brenda. Resting between the blonde and the back of the couch, Sharon listened to Brenda's breath return to normal.

Once she'd come back to herself, Brenda threw a leg over Sharon – maneuvering her body so they were facing each other. "I think that's the first time I've ever really enjoyed you goin' first. But don't make it a habit…"

"I wouldn't dare."

"Come on baby, let's go to bed. We've gotta get up early and I've still got some plans for you and me this evenin'…"

A/N: After all that angst, I figured some cute times were necessary. Big up's to 'Barton Hallow' by The Civil Wars for providing a lovely backdrop while writing my first foray into the sexy times world. I realize it was short, but I'm just getting my bearings, trying it out for size. Any feedback would be just lovely, even though I know it's super awkward to comment. Next chapter will finish this crazy road trip up, I hope you've enjoyed it. xoxo


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